We're on Each Other's Team
by xphile.1
Summary: A sequel of sorts to "Witch's Honor" but rated M for femslash and some light bondage stuff. No plot really, just smutty stuff.


**A/N: This is part 2 of "Witch's Honor" although part 1 isn't necessary to read part 2. I didn't want to change that one to an M rating and it was already marked as complete. This takes place in 'Head.' Apparently my brain is a dark and dirty place. I blame the two screen goddesses Frances Conroy and Jessica Lange for the chemistry. Oh yeah, standard disclaimer that the show and characters are not mine, blah blah. #sorrynotsorry **

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Unhooking the leash from Endora's collar, Fiona let the dog wander through the house to investigate her new home. Taking a left to enter the room full of history and secrets, she set the dog's leather leash on the wooden table with scattered books that were likely older than the house itself. Her glass of whiskey rested untouched on the low table in front of the sofa. Lowering her body to come to a seated position, Fiona settled back with her drink, lifting it for a generous sip. Head hanging forward, she sighed and tried to roll the tension from her neck by rotating her head side to side.

"Oh!" Fiona's body jerked with surprise as she felt two hands encircle her neck.

"It's just me." Myrtle pressed her thumbs into the spot just between Fiona's shoulder blades.

"Jesus, you almost made me spill my drink." With a faint tremble in her hand, Fiona leaned forward to set the glass on the table. "I didn't hear all of your thoughts. There's no need to strangle me, Myrtle."

The flame-haired woman chuckled, grasping Fiona's shoulders firmly as she continued applying pressure to the back of her neck with her thumbs. Her fingertips had slipped beneath the collar of her black jacket, running along the top of Fiona's pronounced collarbone. "I'm not going to strangle you. I thought you might want company until the girls return."

"As long as your idea of keeping me company involves you keeping your hands where they are and not on the piano, then feel free to stay as long as you'd like." Fiona's smile was quick and teasing. She fought to keep her eyes open as Myrtle continued her ministrations, and her cheeks felt flush as Myrtle grazed her fingers a little lower under the collar of her jacket.

"Fair enough, although if I didn't know you any better I would guess you'll probably want my hands elsewhere soon." Myrtle had bowed at the waist just enough so she could speak in a low voice into Fiona's ear. She lingered there longer than necessary, digging her thumbs into the bunched muscles of the blonde's neck.

"Where might that be?" Fiona's voice was hoarse as she squirmed noticeably on the sofa, feeling the stirring of something between her thighs. It was a pulsating sensation, a familiar sense of arousal that started with a shiver and continued to swirl within her. She could feel Myrtle's breath drift around her neck and down the crevice of her chest, and it made her hips shift in response.

"That would be my prerogative, seeing as you owe me the favor now. I can think of a few...inviting places." Myrtle slid one hand from the back of Fiona's neck forward, fingertips disappearing down the low v-shaped jacket to brush over the milky white skin that was enclosed in lace beneath the jacket. She splayed her fingers over the fleshy mound of Fiona's breast, lace gloved fingertips tickling the smooth skin that curved to a hard peak.

Typically the commanding presence in any room, Fiona was slowly being reduced to a mess of submissiveness. Ever since the vixen-like smile that Myrtle had given her after Cordelia had scolded them, she felt an increase in the titillating attraction toward the redhead. Slouching down on the sofa, legs spreading apart modestly, Fiona groaned as Myrtle's fingers withdrew from her breast to trace the outline of her jacket on her chest. The bitch was teasing her mercilessly and it began to grate on Fiona's nerves. "Shit, fine," she muttered, trying to keep her breathing steady. "What's your price, Myrtle?"

A low chuckle sounded against Fiona's neck and Myrtle slipped both hands over the woman's breasts, cupping them through the jacket. "Control. Complete and utter control." Another dark chuckle tickled Fiona's neck and she tilted her head with a slight scowl.

"Done. But...upstairs. I don't need these damn girls walking in on this." Fiona brushed the woman's hands off her chest and stood, bending over to pick up her glass of whiskey. She downed it in a quick gulp, set it back on the table and then straightened her jacket and skirt. Looking to Myrtle, she waved her hand as a gesture to indicate she was ready.

Myrtle grinned almost sinisterly as she walked over to the wooden table to retrieve the leather dog leash. It was about an inch wide, quite perfect for what she had in mind. She met Fiona's gaze and smirked as the blonde drew in a sharp breath.

"Jesus, you're a twisted witch," Fiona murmured as she exited the room to take the stairs to her room. Myrtle followed, folding the leash in half and snapping the leather in a brisk crack that echoed in the hallway.

Once inside her room, Fiona stood by the bed, hands resting on her hips as she looked at Myrtle. "Alright, have at it. Just...don't mess up my hair."

Myrtle nodded once in acknowledgment, and gestured to the bed with the hand that held the leash. "Get in."

_Simple enough,_ Fiona thought. She toed her shoes off before climbing onto the bed, scooting back to rest against the pillows, crossing her legs at the ankle. In an awkward display of politeness she clasped her hands in her lap, waiting for Myrtle's next demand.

The colorful shroud that Myrtle wore pooled around her feet as she undid the clasps, revealing a simple black slip. She removed her shoes as well and then settled onto the bed in front of Fiona. The blonde glanced toward Myrtle's gloved hands.

"Is that my bracelet?" Fiona leaned forward, fingers brushing over the white pearls that were linked together by a delicate orb of tiny diamonds.

A shameless smile crossed Myrtle's lips and she pulled her hand out of Fiona's reach to remove her gloves. "I wanted something to remember you by."

"Hm, I'm sure," Fiona chewed at the inside of her bottom lip to refrain from spouting off a few choice words.

The words were soon forgotten as Myrtle's slender body crawled over the small space between them. She straddled Fiona's lap, taking both of her hands into her own after setting the leash next to them on the bed. "If you behave, I'll give it back to you." Myrtle released her hands to remove the bracelet, bringing it close to Fiona's chest. She dipped the jewelry piece down the woman's cleavage, dragging it up slowly on her skin.

A heavy sigh passed her lips, and Fiona was malleable again. "I'll behave, mistress. What do you want me to do?" Her voice was quiet, almost uncertain. She was not used to taking on the role of the submissive, but found it to be...different, exotic even.

Myrtle seemed pleased by this comment. She let the bracelet slide down the front of Fiona's jacket, watching the woman squirm at the sensation of the pearls glide over her chest. "Remove your jacket."

Breathing began to increase in difficulty again, but Fiona managed to maintain her composure, lifting her hands to undo the buttons of her jacket so she could shrug it off. She sat there somewhat exposed, the dark red lace bra standing out in contrast with silky white skin dusted with fine lines of wrinkles. The bracelet had fallen into the top of the lace garment, lodged against her breast.

Cupping her hands under each mound, Myrtle squeezed them gently, jostling them. "Red looks quite lovely on your skin," she mused aloud. Dipping her head down, Myrtle pressed her mouth on the tops of Fiona's breasts, leaving bright red lipstick marks behind. "Skirt next," she said after leaving several kisses across her chest and up toward her neck.

Myrtle lifted her leg so she could climb off of Fiona's lap, giving her room to kneel and unzip her skirt. The fabric slid down her nylon covered legs easily as Fiona sat back again, lifting her lower body to push the nylons off of her legs as well. The lacy red undergarments were minimal coverage and Fiona thought twice on removing them before being ordered to do so.

"Get on your knees, and face the wall," Myrtle said sharply, scooting over a bit more. She pointed at the wall behind Fiona.

The blonde rolled over and onto her knees, facing the wall as she was told. She angled her head to the side as she felt Myrtle's hand grip her shoulder firmly and then push her forward. Myrtle had propelled Fiona's body into a position so that her knees and hands were on the bed. Fiona didn't feel it at first but heard it rather, the whoosh of air followed by a crack. Myrtle had used the leather leash to lash her bottom. Gripping the pillow in front of her, Fiona tossed her head back, keeping any sounds that struggled to escape her mouth to herself. Although she had called Myrtle twisted, she could emphasize with the description as she drew a sick sense of satisfaction from the sting of leather on her skin. There were several more strikes of the leather whipping against her skin, each one leaving a reddening burn. Each lash made her clutch the pillow that much harder, until she finally couldn't hold back the whiny groan that spilled from her lips.

"On your back." Myrtle ceased the whipping, still kneeling next to her.

Fiona's breath was ragged, her chest heaving with a strange mixture of pain and pleasure, but she obliged silently, dropping onto her stomach and then rolling over onto her back. She inched up on the bed so her head rested on the pillow and waited.

With an almost eerie smile, Myrtle straddled Fiona's hips again, taking the woman's hands to pull them above her head. She met Fiona's gaze as she held her hands in place. "It's okay," she said reassuringly, quietly, as she began to wrap the leash around one of her wrists. The leather was difficult to use as a proper bind but Myrtle made it work, looping it around the woman's other wrist and then tugging it taut. She pressed Fiona's arms down, fingertips trailing down the undersides of her arms until reaching her sides, pausing there to grasp her waist. Fiona gave the appearance of being utterly helpless, even though Myrtle knew that Fiona could easily end this if she wanted to. Dexterous fingers disappeared into Fiona's cleavage to retrieve the bracelet and then Myrtle eased herself backward on the woman's legs.

Myrtle pressed the bracelet against Fiona's lace panties directly over her center, and rubbed the beads against her. Fiona's hips bucked, trying to grind against the jewelry piece for friction, but Myrtle wouldn't allow it just yet. She rolled the beads against the red lace, always pulling away when Fiona tried to thrust her hips toward them. Fiona writhed on the bed, arms restrained over her head, and let out a growl of frustration.

"Now, now, don't misbehave." Myrtle slid a finger beneath the lace and dipped it into Fiona's soaked folds. She wiggled her finger around, using her other hand to push the bracelet rhythmically on the spot where the tiny bundle of nerves could break this woman. Just when Myrtle thought Fiona might be close she removed her hands from her pelvic area and smoothed them over her stomach and up to her chest.

"You're such a bitch." Fiona couldn't help it; her body was tingling with desire and Myrtle simply stopped; what else was she supposed to say?

"Good thing we're on each other's team now, my dear. I could cause some serious damage with you in this position." Myrtle tugged at the red lace that covered Fiona's breasts, teasing the erect flesh with a fingertip. "I do believe the agreement was complete control, so no more insults. They're rather overused, anyhow." Pinching the hardened nipple, Myrtle lowered her head to lazily trace her tongue across the expanse of Fiona's chest.

The blonde was practically panting, her back arching as Myrtle's hot breath tickled her skin. "Please," Fiona said with the hint of a whimper.

"Please what?" Feigning ignorance, Myrtle reached up to Fiona's shoulders pulling the straps down so that she could ease the bra low enough to reveal more of her breasts. She ducked her head to take one pert nipple into her mouth to suckle for a moment, causing Fiona to let out a soft cry.

"Please touch me again!" Arching her back again, Fiona sought Myrtle's mouth.

"Touch you where?" Myrtle grazed her mouth along the woman's collarbone.

"Shit, anywhere! I need it...I need you, please." Fiona gave into submission, wanting the fire between her legs to be extinguished by Myrtle's hands, and if she was reduced to begging then so be it. She rolled her body side to side under Myrtle, hands still bound together over her head.

Mouth still affixed to Fiona's collarbone, Myrtle's hand roamed down her body to rest between her thighs. She pressed her palm teasingly over the lace underwear, and then slid two fingers into Fiona, pushing back and forth vigorously. "What do you need?"

"You, Myrtle...oh please, make me come," Fiona let out another whine, rolling her hips with frustration. She wanted to feel the relief of release, and didn't care what she had to say to make it happen.

Pausing momentarily to find the bracelet, Myrtle set it against her palm so that while her fingers stroked Fiona's inside, the beads rubbed against the small nub of nerves.

Soon, Fiona let out another cry of pleasure, her fingers grasping at the air desperately for something to hold onto but finding nothing. The pleasure exploded in between her thighs and traveled down her legs, causing a pleasant numbness. Taking deep breaths, she watched as Myrtle continued to kiss her chest, her hands withdrawn and now resting on Fiona's hips. Myrtle pulled the sheet over them a moment later, and then took the leash off of Fiona's wrists, caressing her skin. She maneuvered her arms from being above her head to rest at her sides, allowing Fiona to fix her undergarments. Settling back into the bed next to her, Myrtle placed her head on Fiona's chest, and draped an arm over her stomach.

"Myrtle?"

"Hm?"

"You can keep the bracelet."

Sharing a chuckle, both women closed their eyes out of tiredness, the warmth of each other's bodies lulling them into a light sleep. Neither noticed the door partially open or the pair of beautiful mismatched eyes that had peeked into the room before closing the door as silently as possible. Cordelia paused just outside the door with a slight smile, shaking her head with disbelief as she crept back to her own room. Those two couldn't fool her, and now they could finally stop fooling themselves.


End file.
